


Falling

by AustinB



Series: Tumblr Prompts [10]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: After the hug scene, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, karen being awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4771916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AustinB/pseuds/AustinB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>he needs you he needs you he needs you</p><p>The thought is floating in her bloodstream like it’s part of her, like she’s found her calling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

> mooremurdock requested: the moment right after the "you're not alone, matt, you never were" hug

They stand there, wrapped in each other, for several more long moments, Matt’s face buried in her neck and her palm cupping the back of his head. Until Matt stops shaking and the coldness in Karen’s fingertips warms against the skin on the back of his neck. 

_he needs you he needs you he needs you_

The thought is floating in her bloodstream like it’s part of her, like she’s found her calling. He’s always been the pillar of strength she rested upon, the one that held everything up, and she’s all too willing to let him lean on her for however long he needs to.

He loosens his grip on her slightly and Karen cards her fingers through his hair a few more times while she can, grabs a handful in her fist to ground him and to save the sensation for herself for later. She leans back as his arms drop from around her, but she can’t stop touching him just yet, so she leaves her hands on his arms.

She wants to say something comforting, but she’s fresh out of comfort and running pretty low on hope, so she says “Why don’t you go home? Get some sleep… or some rest, anyway.”

He shakes his head. “I have work to do,” he says, and his voice is still rough with emotion, so Karen drops her hands to keep herself from gathering him up again. “And honestly, I’d rather not be,” he takes a breath, “I’d rather not be alone.” He forces a tight smile that Karen recognizes from the mirror and she nods.

“Yeah,” she says softly, “Yeah, no I get that.” 

He finds her hand and gives it a squeeze before heading back to his office.

Karen puts on Pandora just for some background noise. Something soothing, not too peppy. Mozart; yeah, that’ll do it. She closes her eyes to the sound of violins, but they snap open again. The back of her eyelids isn’t too pretty a place at the moment, so she catches up on some administrative work that’s fallen by the wayside amidst more pressing matters.

Mostly though, she watches Matt try to work. He stares off at the window for a while, shakes himself, bends his head to his Braille display, then looks back over at the window; wash, rinse, repeat. 

He’s falling apart and it scares her. If her pillar crumbles where does that leave her? Buried under the heap of rubble. She’s already halfway broken herself.

She leans her cheek down on her desk–just for a moment, she’s so tired; the bone-deep kind of exhaustion that days of sleep couldn’t fix–and opens her eyes when a hand rests on her shoulder. She jerks up–an ingrained fear response she never had before–but Matt is standing there, bent over her desk.

“Hey, sorry,” he says, and the early rays of sunrise are casting pink and purple shadows in the room. Matt lets her get her bearings for a moment before tipping his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”

As she’s pulling her jacket on, Matt says, “Karen.”

She turns to him. He looks terrible; pale, bruised, hair a mess. She wants to wrap him in a blanket and let him sleep with his head on her lap, her fingers in his hair.

“Thanks,” he says, and she thinks he wants to say more, but he just holds his hand out to her. She takes it for a moment, but it isn’t enough so she pulls him against her again. He wraps his arms around her just as tightly as he did when he was falling apart a few hours ago. Maybe he’s been falling apart for a while; maybe he still is. Maybe they both are.

But falling apart together is better than doing it alone, and if all she can do is soften his landing by breaking his fall, she’s happy to. So she cradles his head against her neck for a few minutes, brushes her lips feather-light against his temple before she has to let him go.


End file.
